What's the Point?
by Kat Reguba
Summary: Fluffy. Rogan. What else do you need?


**Author's Note: A floofy little Rogan one shot that wouldn't leave me alone.**

**Disclaimer: Still don't own anything.**

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><p>The mansion was dark as a silent figure stalked the halls, alert for anything out of place. It was a ritual Logan had started when he first came here, unable to settle in such a large place filled with people. After the attack on the mansion, he'd widened the search to the grounds. Starting at dusk he loped through the gardens and woods that surrounded the mansion. Staying out of the mansion until everyone was in bed made the rounds easier. The first few times he'd found more than one couple using the empty classrooms for their fun. Now the place was quiet, Logan quickly finishing the lower levels and heading up to the dormitories.<p>

As far as he knew, only two people knew about his nightly prowls: Charles, but then again, the man was a damn telepath and seemed to know everything, and Marie. She'd actually run into him once on her way down to the kitchen for some milk. After that, he swore she did it on purpose. Never on the same night, and rarely twice in one week. Always a semi-valid excuse, but never anything that couldn't wait until morning.

As he neared his room, and the end of his rounds, he paused. The door across the hall was open slightly, the light on and soft music playing. After a close call with a new student who didn't know about her powers, Marie had moved to her own room on the teacher's wing. And it didn't hurt that it was right across the hall from his. Moving closer he could smell the night air, proof that a window was open.

Gently he knocked on the door, waiting for Marie's admittance before stepping inside, shutting the door behind him. She was sitting cross-legged on the bed, an array of instruments in front of her. "Finished your rounds?"

He smiled, gingerly taking a seat on the foot of the bed. "Yeah. All the rug rats are asleep. Didn't feel like runnin' into anyone anyway."

"You know, you really shouldn't call them that. Some of those "rug rats" are my friends." She admonished, even putting air quotes around rug rats.

Reluctant to get into an argument he knew he'd lose; Logan gestured to the stuff strewn across the bed. "What's all this for?" When she replied that it was for 'doing her nails', he realized that she wasn't wearing gloves. Or socks. In fact, she wasn't wearing anything other than a tank top and baggy pajama bottoms that had been pushed up slightly, giving him a good view of more skin than he'd seen on her…ever. The few times she'd been caught without her gloves, she'd hastily pulled the garments back on, almost embarrassed to be seen without them.

His confusion over her lack of clothing was misinterpreted as typical male bafflement when confronted with any sort of female ritual. "Really Logan, you've never seen a girl do her nails before?" She sighed, going back to filing the rougher edges off her toenails.

"No, but that ain't what's got me wondering. Ya ain't wearing much clothin'." He stated bluntly "Nor divin' fer it like someone's seen ya naked without it." And nobody had better be seein' her naked at all for that matter.

Marie blushed slightly. "Well it's damn difficult to do my nails if Ah'm all covered up." Her accent slipped out, making her blush more. "Besides, Ah trust ya Logan. Yer the only one 'round here that don't act like it's gonna bite 'em from across the room."

He gave a soft snort. "Well of course not. The Wolverine ain't afraid of anything."

Quirking an eyebrow she unsuccessfully tried to hide a smile, much to his annoyance. "What? Ya sayin' I'm afraid of somethin'?" He growled softly, though they both knew he wouldn't do anything. Pigs had a better chance of flying before Logan would raise even a finger against Marie.

"Ah didn't say nothin' sugar." She smiled innocently, reaching for another tool. Another growl left Logan as he settled against the footboard.

The two fell into a comfortable silence, Logan leaning back and letting his eyes close. Soon a sharp chemical smell invaded his senses, and one eye cracked open to see Marie painting her toenails with dark polish. Watching her for a moment, he finally asked "What's the point?"

Marie jumped slightly, almost upsetting the bottle. "The point?" She repeated, finishing her toes and starting on her fingers.

"Yeah. Why do all this?" He asked, gesturing to the stuff on the bed. "Ain't nobody gonna see it, so what's the point?" For a moment he worried he'd royally messed up as tears started in her eyes.

But she managed to blink them back, giving a quiet sniffle before answering. "Same reason you're still here."

He was confused for a moment. How did painting nails have anything to do with watching over her and making sure she stayed safe? But then he realized. He stayed because it kept him sane, as crazy as that sounded. Kept the Wolverine at bay and kept him feeling human.

She finished, letting her nails dry before putting on a pair of gloves and grabbing his hand. Giving it a quick inspection, she started filing them smooth.

Resigned to his fate, Logan relaxed against the footboard once more. "No polish."

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><p><strong>Reviews are love! <strong>


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